Among several Bantu-speaking communities of central and eastern Africa, the phrase “yakukayali” connotes “those of the deep forest,” while “yukotayali” evokes a ritual sharing of flesh. Together, the hybrid title hints at a little-known culinary and cultural practice: the occasional harvesting and eating of monkeys (nyani) during seasonal ceremonies. Though modern conservation laws and shifting ethical views have greatly reduced this custom, its memory remains vivid in songs, folktales, and the guarded stories of elders.
Traditionally, monkey hunting was never random. It followed an exacting calendar tied to ripening wild figs and the appearance of red-winged starlings—signs that the forest spirits were receptive. Hunters prepared by abstaining from salt and intimacy for three days, purifying body and intent. Armed with short bows tipped in a mild plant toxin that immobilized rather than killed outright, they tracked vervet or colobus troops through tangled liana corridors. When a single animal was captured, the hunters paused, offering maize beer to a carved wooden emblem called muvuyu, thanking the forest for its gift.
Back in the village, preparation unfolded as public theater. Women shaved plantain leaves into long green strips, weaving a makeshift steamer. The monkey was singed over flame to remove fur, then sectioned with obsidian flakes. Meat, organs, and marrow-rich bones were layered with wild garlic, termite mushrooms, and crushed mbiro seeds, sealed in leaves, and slow-cooked beneath heated river stones. Aromas—earthy, nutty, faintly sweet—floated across the clearing, summoning every generation to the hearth.
The first bite was reserved for the oldest grandmother, whose whispered blessing balanced gratitude with regret: “Tusavile, nyani. Utupe nguuvu, tukulinde misitu.” — “Forgive us, monkey. Give us strength, guard our forests.” Each participant ate sparingly, mindful that excess would offend both spirit and ecosystem. Thus, Nyani Yukotayali kuliwa embodied an intimate covenant: sustenance earned through restraint, and reverence pledged to the living forest.
